


Talk to Me

by bioloyg



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Emotional Constipation, First Kiss, Kissing, M/M, Sam is also a capable adult, Winter Falcon, a la Bucky, idk how to tag things so, sam gets hurt, sambucky - Freeform, sbweek2016, squabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 21:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7285330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioloyg/pseuds/bioloyg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam finds himself hurt after a mission. Badly. But, when he gets back it seems he isn't the only one walking around with some bruises.<br/>~<br/>Something small for SamBucky week 'cause I found out that's a thing that was happening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I'm a lying liar who lies. I said I wasn't gonna write for SamBucky again while I had other things to work on, _but here I am_.  
>  Anyway, I found out (on accident, mind you) that it's SamBucky week? No idea what the full list of prompts are for each day, but I saw one of them was "conflict" so I jumped on that one.
> 
> This is unbeta'd and I wrote it on relatively short notice so I hope you like it. Please please please feel free to point out errors. Thanks again for reading!

Sam cautiously circles the HYDRA agent, sizing him up. In reality they’re sizing each other up, and Sam can tell he’s the one at a disadvantage right now. It’s all too obvious, actually. Sam wouldn’t exactly be surprised if the man across from him used that to his advantage.

One of the wings on Sam’s suit is damaged beyond immediate repair, his ribs are bruised if not broken, and he’s more than a little out of breath. Later he’s gonna have to have a talk with Steve about why splitting up was the worst possible idea. That is, if there _is_ a later. This HYDRA agent is pretty huge. All oiled muscle and lifeless brown eyes.

Sure, Sam’s got plenty of training in hand to hand combat, but he’s relatively sure he’d end up with a broken fist if he tried to take this guy down with his bare hands. However, it’s not looking like Sam has many options aside from that right now. Except – Bucky, former Winter Soldier and perpetual pain in Sam’s ass, forced Sam to take a knife with him before he left.

He’d said something about how Sam and Steve needed to learn how to fight dirty, especially if they were up against HYDRA agents who didn’t take prisoners and had no qualms killing. And viciously at that. Sam had hesitated at first, but he had to admit (though not out loud) that Bucky had a point. So, he took the knife. Right after he made a comment about Bucky being a mother hen.

Sam _definitely_ can’t let Bucky figure out he was right. However, he _is_ sending Bucky a silent thank you as the tension between he and the man across from him builds.

He’s not sure who decides to make the first move, but within the blink of an eye Sam’s back is up against a wall and there’s an arm to his throat. He lets out a choked off curse and grabs at the karambit on his thigh. Once it’s within his grasp, Sam jabs it into the side of the agent and does his best to rake through as much flesh as possible. It doesn’t get him much, but it’s enough of a distraction that he’s able to push the HYDRA agent from his space.

Sam twirls the bloodied karambit on his forefinger until it’s in the preferred position and takes in a greedy breath. The HYDRA agent looks down at the tear in his side and smirks as if the wound is nothing more than a scratch to him. His voice is thick and accented when he says, “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

“I didn’t come here for a critique on my fighting style, I came here to kick your ass,” Sam responds. He doesn’t waste any more time with pointed jibes and instead focuses on clawing as much of the man’s skin as he can.

He’s thrown down for his efforts more than once, and on the third time he wheezes, “Man, didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude not to die when someone stabs you?”

The HYRDA agent laughs and cracks his neck. “It’s too bad your mind is corrupted. You’re funny.”

Sam rolls his eyes. If there’s one thing he doesn’t have time for right now, it’s condescending remarks from guys like this. He gets enough from Bucky back at headquarters. So, Sam pushes himself up off the ground, widens his stance, and says, “My show is on tonight and I _really_ don’t have time to play with you, so can we finish this sometime this century?”

With a narrowing of his eyes, tall, buff, and creepy says, “It would be my pleasure.”

~

Sam wakes up in the med bay with a distinct throbbing in his head and a sharp pain all along his left side. His knuckles are bruised, his feet are sore, and… There’s a very pained looking Bucky Barnes at the end of his bed studiously reading a book.

“Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein?” Sam wonders aloud, though that may be generous. His voice comes out gravelly and worn.

Be that as it may, he still manages to startle Bucky – only slightly though. The former Winter Soldier tilts the book away from his face and frowns. “What? It’s a classic. I had to do _something_. The beeping was starting to get to me.” He jerks his head in the direction of the heart monitor.

Sam wordlessly turns the sound on the machine off. He doesn’t need to know everything Bucky went through to know the guy probably hates anything even remotely resembling a hospital. And even if Sam didn’t know anything at all he’d be able to tell just by the way Bucky is holding himself right now. His posture is stiff where it’s usually casually indifferent and his knuckles are white where they grip the book as if holding on for dear life. Sam grimaces at the thought.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asks as he tries to sit up. It’s a stupid move on his part because pain tears through his side causing him to gasp.

Bucky shoots up out of his chair, but he freezes halfway to Sam’s side and backtracks to his seat as if rethinking being helpful. He looks like a deer caught in headlights for a moment, his blue-grey eyes blown wide, before he finally catches that he was supposed to respond. “S’just waiting for you to wake up. Steve had somewhere else to be but he wanted someone here when you woke up.”

“Ah,” Sam says, sinking back into his starting position. He sucks a shallow breath inward and takes in Bucky’s rumpled form. “How long have you been here?”

The question seems to give Bucky pause, and when he answers it’s with a vague, “Not long.”

“Okay…” That’s bullshit, but Sam lets it slide. For now.

Bucky nods once and gestures at the door with his book. “I’ll go let Steve know you’re awake.”

Sam’s gaze follows Bucky as the man exits. It’s not like Bucky to be so skittish, at least not in the quiet and awkward sense. He’s usually more alert, always has that eerily focused look in his eyes. Even when he’s tired. For whatever reason that’s not the case today.

Sam frowns, the reason eluding him, and turns to his bedside. He’s not sure what he’s looking for, but he finds a bottle of water and reaches for it. He’s parched anyway.

Just as he’s opening the water bottle, Steve walks in with a pinched look on his face. He stops at the foot of Sam’s bed. “You doin’ okay?”

Sam looks down at himself and back up at Steve with a quirked eyebrow. “I don’t know if okay is the word I would use, but I’m _alive_.” Sighing, Sam presses the button on the remote for his bed and slowly brings himself to a more upright position. “What about you?”

“I’m fine,” Steve answers, and his tone is almost… regretful. “I’m sorry – for what happened back there. If I had known you’d be up against some juggernaut then I wouldn’t have suggested splitting up.”

Ah, and there it is. Guilt. _That’s_ what’s coloring Steve’s tone. It’s not unusual, but it seems misplaced for whatever reason.

Sam finishes taking a sip of his water and shrugs. He winces shortly after and lets out a low breath. “It’s alright. We both thought it was a good idea at the time – mostly – that way no one got away.”

Steve nods, though he still looks bothered by something. The super soldier lets out a breathy laugh and says, “Y’know, before last week, I wouldn’t have thought you were capable of taking down a man twice your size with three broken ribs, a sprained wrist, and a fractured ankle holding you down.”

Sam gently rests a hand over said broken ribs. He didn’t realize it was _that_ bad. “Yeah, well, you’re not the only one. I was beginning to doubt myse- wait. _Last week_? How long have I been out?” He looks around the room for some sort of way to figure out for himself. The fight had taken a lot out of him, as evidenced by the fact that he _passed out_ once he killed Mr. I eat nails for breakfast. But that much? A whole week?

“You’ve been asleep for a little over four days.” Steve frowns again. “You were pretty banged up.”

“He still _is_ ,” comes a voice from the doorway. Sam and Steve turn only to find Bucky scowling. Both of them wait, expecting Bucky to say something else, but he just grabs the remainder of his things and leaves. Angry, it would seem.

Sam turns back to Steve and makes a face. “What’s all that about?”

“He’s upset,” Steve answers quietly, his gaze going distant. The muscles in his jaw tense as soon as the words are out.

“What happened?”

Steve lets out a deep sigh. “It’s a long story.”

Sam takes that to mean it’s not really any of his business so he doesn’t push it, even though he wants to know what’s eating at Bucky. He takes one last look at the door and then says, “So when do I get out of here?”

~

Turns out Sam had to camp his bruised ass out for another week and a half. And whatever squabble was going on between Steve and Bucky meant that one was never in a room the other was in. Which in turn meant Sam didn’t really see Bucky for a week and a half.

At first it was a welcome respite. Sam finally found some peace in his life. However, after the first day or so it got old. Sure Steve was as good a witty conversationalist as any, but it wasn’t the same as the barbed insults Sam and Bucky would trade.

But even when Bucky _did_ visit he and Sam didn’t really speak. Of course that was because Bucky usually came in the dead of night to brood in a corner. There was only one time Sam woke up and caught him there. Sam had said something about him hiding in the shadows and then Bucky had looked right at Sam and left with nothing more than a parting, ‘ _I’ll be back later.’_

It was all very… odd. Even for Bucky.

So, to say the least, Sam is pretty fed up with whatever schoolyard bullshit is going on between wonderbread boy and the winter bummer by the time he checks out of the medical ward of their self-made HQ. The one time Bucky and Steve came to watch over Sam at the same time the tension in the room was so thick Sam thought about asking for the karambit to cut himself a god damn air hole.

Sam shakes his head at the thought as he walks – read: _hobbles_ – into the kitchen. He’d made it very clear to his nurses that he wasn’t about to swing himself around on crutches with his broken ribs, so they gave him one of those awful moon boots for his ankle. It’s day six being in this boot and he’s still not used to it.

As he’s opening the fridge for some juice Sam hears someone enter behind him. He casts a look over his shoulder and finds none other than the winter bummer himself. “Hey snowflake. What’s up?”

Bucky takes one look at Sam and frowns. “Shouldn’t you be in bed or something?”

“Or something.” Sam opens the orange juice container and takes a sip directly from it, much to Bucky’s irritation. Once he’s capped it and put it back he says, “My ribs are broken, not my legs. I’m allowed to walk around.”

“Coulda been your legs,” Bucky mutters as he heads to the pantry to grab something. He takes another look at Sam and says, “You should be resting.”

“I rested for almost two weeks. Remember? You sat in a corner and watched me sleep for at least half of that.”

Bucky’s shoulders tense for a moment, one of those blink and you miss it things. He slowly closes the pantry door without having grabbed anything. “The day shift was taken.”

“No,” Sam starts as he walks to where he can see Bucky’s face. “You just wouldn’t visit during the day.”

“Three is a crowd,” Bucky replies breezily.

“Uh _huh_. Wanna tell me what’s going on between you and Steve?” Sam asks, crossing his arms over his chest. It’s not the most comfortable position to be in, but there’s no other way he can look imposing right now. At least not with the giant grey boot on his left foot.

Bucky’s face closes off and his lips thin out. He sucks a sharp breath inward and then says, “Nothing.” He starts to leave but Sam sidesteps and blocks his path.

“ _Move_ ,” Bucky says while staring Sam down with a cool grey intensity in his eyes.

“I’m more afraid of my grandmother than you,” Sam replies evenly. “Now spill. Why are you and Steve avoiding each other, and why do you look like someone kicked your puppy?”

Sam can see the muscles in Bucky’s jaw straining under the weight of whatever it is he really wants to say, but all that comes out is, “I told you, nothing is going on between me and Steve. And I’m _fine_.”

“If you’re fine why have you been avoiding me, too?” It’s not like Sam hasn’t noticed the way Bucky slinks right back out of a room when he notices Sam is in it.

But apparently Bucky hadn’t realized Sam had taken notice. Something near surprise tugs at the tension in Bucky’s features for a moment, then Bucky locks it down again, scowling. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Really?” Sam drawls, unconvinced.

“ _Yes_.”

Sam snorts and leans back. “So what exactly do you call tiptoeing out of any room either me or Steve are in?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and walks around Sam. “Looking for peace and quiet.”

Sam grabs Bucky’s wrist, something he was trying to avoid, and says, “Look, I can’t fix whatever reason you’re upset with Steve, but if _I_ did something to piss you off the least you could do is tell me what it was.”

“That’s not it at all,” Bucky answers quickly. “It’s not – you didn’t –” He lets out a pained sigh and tugs his wrist away from Sam’s grip. “Can you just let it go?”

Sam would any other time, but he’s tried weaseling the reason for Bucky’s behavior out of Steve to no avail. He’s practically going stir crazy in his own house because of how strained and quiet things have been.

“Not until you tell me what I did.”

“It’s not _you_ I’m mad at,” Bucky snaps.

Sam lets out a short breath. “What the hell is your damage?”

Bucky’s hand flexes and he closes his eyes as if pained. “I – You got _hurt_.”

“Uh, yes, I did. Thank you Captain Obvious.”

“That’s not – _ugh_ – Steve never should’ve left you alone.”

Sam’s mouth falls open for a moment. “Are you f– You’re mad at Steve because I got hurt?”

“You guys were a _team_. Teams don’t split up. I told you guys to stick together and you _didn’t_ and look what happened,” Bucky responds, exasperated. He reaches out to touch a cut on Sam’s face and falters at the last moment. “I don’t even know how you survived. I saw pictures of that guy; he was _huge_.”

“Well for starters I’m not five years old,” Sam responds, snide. “Steve made the executive decision to split up, sure, but I could’ve said no at any time. It made _sense_. Too many of those guys would have gotten away if we hadn’t.”

“And you could have gotten _killed_ ,” Bucky retorts, voice raised. He seems to catch himself and then backs away from Sam altogether.

Sam frowns. “It comes with the territory, Bucky. My life for hundreds of others isn’t exactly a tough call to make. The last thing this world needs is more people being taken advantage of like you were.”

“It doesn’t _have_ to come with the territory,” Bucky says sorely.

“And it _didn’t_. At least not this time. What are you gonna get pissy every time me or Steve gets hurt?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and turns away for a moment before deciding against it and coming back. “No, because Steve is a **_super soldier_**. He heals within a day or two; you don’t. You’re only human, Sam. You’re not like us. He should have protected you.”

“He doesn’t have to!” Sam answers angrily. “I can take care of _myself_. I wouldn’t be here if that wasn’t the case.”

“I’m not saying you can’t take care of yourself –”

“Then what _are_ you saying?” Sam finds the muscles around his ribs tensing the more frustrated he gets, and his breath comes out stuttered because of the pain.

Bucky takes notice and quiets instantly, his tone hushed. “I’m saying he should have had your back. I _know_ how well trained you are, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t someone out there that’s bigger and better, which is why you take _backup_.”

Sam’s face scrunches up in irritation. “How are you so bothered that I got hurt that you’re still pissed two weeks later? I didn’t _die_ , I’m right here. You can’t keep punishing Steve for something that already happened.”

“You _could_ have. You could have died, and I don’t know what I –” Bucky stops himself abruptly. His mouth hangs open slightly, but the words fail to come.

Sam can tell something heavy is on the other side of the precipice where Bucky’s words fell off. He also knows that if he pushes too hard for it, Bucky will clam up. So, Sam takes a step forward and cautiously says, “You don’t know what?”

Bucky’s eyes track a path up and down Sam’s body, pausing at every point where he’s broken or bruised. He closes his mouth and clears his throat. Then, shaking his head, Bucky says, “Nothing, I – you’re right.”

“I _know_ , but I need you to talk to me right now and tell me what’s going on up there.” Sam flicks a strand of hair beside Bucky’s temple.

Bucky glares at Sam, unblinking. Usually this would be the point where Sam walked away. Bucky could stubbornly stand his ground for _days._ But not now.

Eventually, when Bucky sees that Sam means business he mutters, balefully, “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

Sam stares blankly at Bucky. That’s not what he was expecting at all. “What are you _talking_ about?”

Bucky groans and continues as though he’s being forced against his will to explain. The words come out slowly and each pause is jagged. “You – ground me, or something. It’s complicated, but it’s… easier with you here. And if you were to die I don’t know what I would do.”

Sam’s mouth falls open. “I’m sorry – did I miss something? Since when am _I_ the calming force in your life? I thought Steve was.”

“He doesn’t get why I am the way I am sometimes,” Bucky mutters. “He’s so caught up on the Bucky I used to be, even when he’s trying not to be. But you’ve only known the me I am now, _and_ you’ve worked with veterans with PTSD so you just – it works, the dynamic we have.” Bucky falters for a moment and looks away. “I need that. I need _you_ – here, I mean.”

_Oh…_

Sam leans up against the counter beside him, suddenly out of breath. Bucky steps forward but halts at the last minute again, too afraid to touch. Sam looks down at Bucky’s hands, one real, one metal, and says, “We argue all the time…”

“Yeah. But it’s – it reminds me I can be normal. You don’t walk on eggshells around me and it’s – it’s fun.”

Bucky moves to drop his hands, but Sam catches one of them. He holds onto the cool metal tightly and says, “Your knife saved my ass.” Bucky’s eyes come up to meet Sam’s but instead of waiting for Bucky’s reply, Sam drags the man into a kiss right after he says, “So you can stop sulking because you were afraid you’d never get to tell me how much you like me.”

The move catches Bucky off guard, but Bucky melts into the kiss beautifully, moving his hands to either side of Sam’s face shortly after. Much to Sam’s surprise, Bucky is a gentle kisser. He lets his lips drag against Sam’s slowly, lingering between each press.

After a few drawn out kisses Bucky responds with a terse, “Don’t _ever_ do that again.”

“Can’t exactly control those kinds of things,” Sam says just before Bucky captures his lips again. His lips are parted by the insistent press of Bucky’s tongue and a soft gasp is drawn out of him.

“You can if you’re careful,” Bucky says, his lips mere inches away from Sam’s.

Sam tilts his head to the side and licks into Bucky’s mouth, shutting him up. He runs his hands up Bucky’s biceps and threads his fingers into Bucky’s hair, studiously ignoring the pull of the muscles around his ribs. Then, Sam gently tugs Bucky back and says, “Cause you’re the champion of being careful.”

“I’m careful where it counts.” Bucky pulls Sam in for another kiss, but Sam turns at the last moment.

He whispers into Bucky’s ear. “Yeah, sometimes you’re _too_ careful.”

“Didn’t want to mess up what we have,” Bucky replies, soft and sincere. He kisses the corner of Sam’s jaw and then the pulse point just beneath it. “Wasn’t sure how you’d react.”

Sam shivers as Bucky continues his trail of kisses and slowly loses his train of thought. He grips Bucky’s hair tighter and comes back to himself long enough to say, “Don’t think you’re off the hook just cause you’re kissing me.”

“Never,” Bucky replies, thoroughly admonished.

“Because you were a massive asshole to Steve.” Sam sucks in a breath when Bucky bites the base of his neck. “ _Easy_ , I’m hurt.”

Bucky chuckles against Sam’s throat and backs away. “Oh _now_ you’re hurt.”

Sam smirks. “Yeah, someone told me I should be taking it easy right now. Said something about bed rest, I think.”

“Oh I’ll show you bed rest, alright.”

~

This moon boot is _ridiculous_.

Sam is **so** tired of being bruised and broken, and he’s even more tired of having to sit back and watch Steve and Bucky _leave_. The nerves associated with a mission were welcome when it was Sam who was going. But, seeing as he’s out of commission for the time being, he’s left to watch his best friend and his significant pain in the ass go without him.

“You sure you guys have everything?” Sam asks for the third time.

Bucky levels him with a look and says, “Now who’s being a mother hen? Yes, Sam. We have everything. Even a spare pair of underwear in case we get lost at the _supermarket_.”

Steve tries and fails to stifle a laugh. “He’s just tired of being stuck here, give him a break.”

“You’re free to come with us,” Bucky offers. “You just have to learn to walk faster, old man.”

Sam narrows his eyes. “Watch it freeze pop. I could have you sent to a home.”

Steve rolls his eyes and starts backing away. “I’ll be in the car.”

Bucky waves Steve off and steps closer to Sam. “You’d miss me too much.”

“You’re the one with separation anxiety, James “ _puppy_ ” Barnes.”

A reluctant grin spreads across Bucky’s face. “I don’t know why I even like you.”

“You more than like me,” Sam says with a smirk. He looks over Bucky’s shoulder for a second and then flicks Bucky’s right arm, saying, “You apologize to him yet?” Sam nods in the direction of where Steve walked away

Bucky frowns and looks to the side. He shifts awkwardly as he says, “Yeah. Yeah, we talked about it a few days ago. He uh – he apologized too. Said he knew how important you were – to me.”

“I’m important to you, huh?”

“Stop fishing.” Bucky turns back only to glare a hole through Sam. “Also – I’m leaving now. Do you need to ask me if we have everything a fourth time or am I good to go?”

Sam considers Bucky for a long and drawn out moment, then he takes a strand of Bucky’s hair and squints.

“What?” Bucky asks, struggling to look to the side.

“Nothing you just – I think you have something – here lemme,” Sam mumbles. Once he’s sure Bucky is distracted he smirks and plants an obnoxiously loud raspberry on his cheek.

Bucky groans and swats at Sam’s hand. “And Steve thinks _I’m_ the immature one. Ugh, you’re the worst.”

Sam doesn’t miss the touch of fondness in Bucky’s voice, _or_ the slight blush toasting the tops of his cheeks. It’s cute the way he gets flustered now that Sam can get up close to mess with him.

Sam leans in one more time, but presses a gentle kiss to Bucky’s lips instead of another raspberry. “You say I’m the worst, but the way you kiss me says I’m the best.”

“Sap,” Bucky says with a roll of his eyes.

He’s just about to lean in for another kiss when Steve pops around the corner and says, “Bucky, _come on_. We’re gonna get stuck in traffic if you take any longer.”

Bucky lets out an annoyed breath. “Hold your horses, Steve. I’ll be there in a minute.” He leaves a quick peck on Sam’s cheek and whispers, “We’ll finish this later.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Sam responds as he pats Bucky’s arm. “Oh, one more thing.”

Steve mutters something under his breath at the same time Bucky groans, “What _now_?”

“Bring me back some Oreos. The _double stuff_ this time _,_ not that regular bullshit.”

Bucky heaves a put upon sigh and says, “Yeah, yeah. It’s written on your list,” as he walks away.

Sam sticks out his tongue even though Bucky can’t see.

**Author's Note:**

> Psst, If you liked this you should go read my other fic [D.T.F. (Don't Touch, Feel)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7233118) if you haven't already.


End file.
